


When She is Away

by Bbanimal



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, No Plot/Plotless, No Real Dialogue, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 04:30:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6455932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bbanimal/pseuds/Bbanimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a Petyr/Sansa one-shot with some horizontal escapades, no real plot, no reason. Just because... I love it and I love that you love it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When She is Away

Her laughter is airy and playful. Head tilting back, the long pale column of her neck exposed, begging to be kissed - the brush of lips against her skin, landing atop her pulse point. A smirk at the quickening tempo, Sansas eyelids fluttering and closing, her laughter ending in a sigh at his touch.

Fingers wrap around the base of her neck, his thumb running along the smooth skin of her collarbone, the others weaving themselves into coppery strands.

With all the airs of practiced seduction she leans her head back, shaking the loose hairs away from her face. Slowly raising herself onto her elbows, her hands, and sitting up with a quirked eyebrow; a flush on her cheeks, a smirking mouth. Meeting his darkened stare her hands move forward, lightly taking hold of the finely pressed collar of his shirt, Sansa leans into his frame, soft white thighs straddling her partner, slowly sinking into his warmth. She wraps her slender limbs around his neck, arching her back at the sensation of his strong hands pressing into her back, his fingers drifting down, running along her thighs.

The pressure of his fingers gripping at her sensitive flesh makes her gasp out loud. A slight shudder felt at the upward movement of his fingers lightly sliding between silk and skin, taking the material of her dress with them. The cool air of the room hitting her naked thighs, his breath felt against her skin as he slides his hands under the lace of her panties, another barrier removed.

Squeezing her perfect round ass, she squeals, her face falling in the crook of his neck, kissing his skin, laughing; ‘Ahh - Petyr!’

The roll of her hips elicits a groan in response. Pressing her breasts against his chest she lifts her head to place a light kiss against his lips, Petyrs left hand quickly moving to rest at the base of her neck, his right wrapping around her tiny waist, pressing her closer. Their kisses quickly grow fervid and deep, her lips parting, her open mouth pressing against his, his tongue sliding in to taste her sweetness. He can feel a smile on her lips, her body reacting to his biting kiss; moving, pressing into his hips. Eager to feel his growing hardness, chasing the heat, a pooling wetness between her legs.

Kissing until no breath remains between them, she pulls back, biting at his lower lip with another roll of her hips. Met with a lustful and drawn-out groan she smiles, biting at her own lower lip how he loves. Petyr raises his hand to tuck her mussed hair behind an ear, drifting down to find purchase on a pert breast.

‘Sweetling.’ He breathes.

She gives him a little smirk, her lips slightly parted. He stares at her pouty lips, how the moisture clings to them; his eyes slowly drifting down, watching for the rising and falling of her chest, her hardening nipples.

‘So beautiful.’ He murmurs, his thumb running itself over the hardened peak, hands cupping her soft breasts.

Sansa tilts her head back, a soft gasp. Opening her eyes and looking up, she stares at his green eyes through her lashes, listening to his slowing breath. She moves forward to place a light kiss on his lips as she slides the thin straps of her sundress from her shoulders, exposing the naked breasts underneath.

‘Fuck, so lovely my sweet girl.’ He stares at the perfect skin, how his hand runs over her flesh - growing taut at his touch; watching her dilating pupils, her open mouth begging to be kissed. He complies, his kiss harsh and greedy though she eagerly reciprocates, one hand massaging her breast, the other pressing her closer. Rolling her hips she can feel him thick and hard and in response, presses her hips - her sex deeper into him. Sansa pulls away slightly, hands resting on his chest.

He stares at the girl becoming undone under his touch, words spilling out in a growl; ‘What do you want sweetling.’ 

She runs her tongue along her lower lip; ‘To _taste you,_ _feel you_.’ Her voice is a rough whisper. Sansa leans in closer, lips grazing his ear, ‘- and to be fucked.’

He chuckles, kissing her cheeks, eyelids, a chaste kiss to her lips. ‘Oh, all those things _in good time_ _my love_ \- and _thoroughly_.’ With that, he throws her into the downy pillows of the bed, crawling up her soft and lithe frame, hands stopping and resting next to her shoulders. Staring down with an appraising eye, he notes her lustful and expectant gaze, storing this memory; her face so open and full of want, so wanting _of him_. Slowly she raises her hands, resting them against his jaw as she lifts herself to meet him. Their lips connecting as she pulls him downwards. With his body finally parallel to her own, Sansa presses and wraps one of her slender legs around his waist, allowing his groin to press deeply into her center. Their bodies instinctively moving against the other, moaning aloud at the machinations, their bodies burning and aching with the need to be touched.

Pulling away she gasps, ‘Let me, please Petyr. _I want to_.’ Her lips almost drawn into a pout.

Sansa’s hands slowly drift down, tugging at his loosened tie, the buttons of his shirt. He watches her, the look on her face, a smile breaking as she finally pulls away the fabric, pushing it off his shoulders, kissing his bare skin, the top of his scar, along his jaw. Closing his eyes, he can feel her hips rising, her hands undoing his belt, the sound of a zipper and hands gripping at his hardened cock, freeing it.

Suppressing a small shudder, he moans aloud; ‘Fuck.’

Taking in the sight of him becoming undone _at her touch_ , Sansa stares, her own eyes black with lust. Her hands running along his thick length, massaging the tip, smearing the pre-cum and watching his face as she pleasures him. He moves to rest at his side and is gently pushed onto his back, his wisp of a lover straddling him again and pulling off his trousers. He groans aloud at the sensation her soft skin pressed against his naked flesh, feeling the wetness of her sex against him, the smallest movement of their hips sliding his cock along her folds causing them both to moan.

With a final tug, Sansa pulls at the last remnants of her dress, pressing her hands into his chest as they take each other in. She can feel him grip tightly at her hips and waist staring at her now-naked frame, appreciating the sight laid before him. His breathing, though heavy is controlled.

‘God, so perfect.’ With a smile she leans down to kiss his lips, her mouth hungry and met with his, her red hair spilling all around them.

Petyrs hands slide up her white thighs, a quick swat at her ass, her laughter soft against his lips. Gripping at her waist he pulls her close once again, Sansa lifting her head to kiss at his skin, her eyesight refusing to break his as she slides down his body, hands gripping at his sides, fingers interweaving with his. Her lips moving against his chest, abdomen, his hip. Stopping at his groin she runs her pink tongue his length, kissing the tip - tasting the fluid that has collected before taking him fully into her mouth.

He tilts his head back, feeling her tongue, her soft lips wrapped around his cock. Petyr moving to watch her, the bobbing of her head, the arching of her naked back, her hands cupping him. Listening to her soft moans, the vibrations against his skin. In a moment of weakness he closes his eyes, involuntarily jerking his hips. Running his hands through her hair, gripping at her scalp pushing her downwards, a loud moan slipping from her mouth. He can feel her saliva coating him, wetting her lips, her hands. Pulling away she runs her tongue against the head, hands moving and pushing him further.

‘Ahh, shit. That feels so fuckin -’ Unable to continue with his praise Petyr groans, feeling himself move towards completion. Suddenly he tugs at her frame, Sansa gasping at the movements, their bodies sliding against each other. Petyr only stopping at her pretty pink cunt resting against his mouth. He stops for a moment, taking in the smell of her arousal, how wet she is, her pretty red curls. Feeling her hips move in anticipation he stills her with his tongue, tasting her.

Sansa cries aloud, hands gripping at the headboard, head dropping like a stone, her mouth agape; ‘Oh god Petyr, _please_...’ He can feel her body quivering, thighs clenching around his head. His hands gripping at her ass to steady her, Sansas back arching.

‘So fucking wet for me. _My little whore -_ you want this don’t you?’ His words are rough and broken, spoken into her white thighs. 

His fingers sliding into her wetness, pumping in and out, circling her clit now swollen with arousal. She tilts her head back, crying out; ‘Yes. Oh god, fuck me. Please, please.’

He looks up, watching her face begging for release. Her whole body trembling and growing heavy, himself hard, cock damp from her saliva, dripping with pre-cum. With another swift movement he sits up, strong arms holding her tight, pulling her downwards. Her hands moving to steady herself, his tip sliding along her sex. Her hips rolling, pressing harder.

‘Shit.’

Her arms wrap tightly around his neck, their mouths meeting, tasting each other. Finally taking himself in his hand Petyr gives a swift thrust, his thick cock filling her, muscles clenching around him, her own body stilling, welcoming of the familiar contact. A strange calm seems to settle over the two, resting their heads against the others forehead. Slowly he begins massaging her trembling thighs, his hands guiding the movement of her hips.

‘You still want to be fucked?’ His words coming out pleading and rushed, his own body taut, demanding release, to fill her as she screams aloud.

Sansa whispering against his lips, ‘Yes. Hard. Fuck me Petyr.’

With that he gives a hard thrust, her breasts bouncing at the movement. Tilting her head back, she cries out, the words ending in a moan. Petyr runs his hand down her neck, massaging her breasts, kissing and biting at the damp skin. Sansa continuing to move her hips, filling herself before slowly sliding out. The smell of her sex pressing him forward, her wetness now running down his thigh. Her whole body shaking, feeling himself begin to vibrate in exhaustion, nearing completion.

‘I need you to come.’ He groans, the feeling of her body maddening.

‘My perfect pretty girl. I need you to come, I need to feel your sweet little cunt clench around my cock.’ She gasps with a hard thrust, hands weaving through his black and grey strands, scraping along his scalp, biting at his lip.

‘Shit, so close aren’t you? Have me come inside you.’ He can feel her moaning against his neck, her head resting against his shoulder as they continue to move. Finally, he can feel her muscles contracting, her movements suddenly sporadic though slowing, finally feeling her grip at him tightly, the sound of her coming being pulled from the back of her throat.

At the sound of her orgasm, the sheer intensity of it, the sensation of her trembling body becoming heavy he spills into her. His hips still moving against her slowly. Both leaning in, lips parting and meeting, continuing the fervid tempo. The two only part to breathe in raspy, drawn-out breaths. He stares into her big blue eyes, watching a small, peaceful smile bloom on her moist and swollen lips. 

Leaning in for another ardent kiss, Sansa speaks against his skin, whispering through their kisses, the panting; ‘Can we lie in bed for a while? Please?’ She pulls away slightly, their noses touching.

Her body is still, awaiting his response. Their eyes locking again, Petyr tucking a strand of mussed hair behind her ear, kissing the warm skin along her jawline, feeling her slowing pulse. 

'Of course sweetling, your aunt won’t be home for a few more hours.’ With that, he pushes her downwards, Sansa squealing aloud in shock, Petyr chuckling before silencing her with another kiss to her pink lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you and hope it was a pleasurable read! I haven't written in quite some time and I needed to stretch me writing wings once again. 
> 
> And... if you are a dirty bird like moi; follow me on Tumblr @ [b-baminal](http://b-baminal.tumblr.com/).
> 
> ♡ as always - B


End file.
